


Yellow

by sillypigeon



Category: Fall Out Boy, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blurryface, Flashbacks, Gen, Guilt, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Young Blood Chronicles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sillypigeon/pseuds/sillypigeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Blood Chronicles!Patrick meets Blurryface!twenty one pilots.</p><p>Patrick had been coming to the room for months until one day, the sound of drumming echoes down the halls. Patrick begins to realise his hands aren't as clean as he thought they were. Why can't Josh hear them when they speak? And why is there darkness building up around the edges of the rooms?</p><p>They say your head can be a prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kick Drum

He came back to the room even though he wasn’t sure why. He lost himself here. He lost _someone_ here. He’d done this a couple of times before. Each time had hurt more than the last. But he kept coming anyway, as if he could gain forgiveness through remorse. But the people who could forgive him were gone. The only people who _mattered_ were gone.

He closed his eyes for a moment. His heart beat had sped up and sounded like drums in his ears. This happened more times then he’d like to admit. A side effect of what happened to him - and the things he had done - was an overwhelming panic that made him wish his heart would stop beating all together. But it still beat and here he was, barely hanging on.

His eyes flashed open when the drumming in his ears didn’t stop. In fact, it got louder, more intense. It was like someone was drumming their life into the kit. He felt something stir in the back of his mind but he pushed it violently away. He was gaining control of the Yellow, although it didn’t matter much now.

He followed the noise down the hallway, peeking into open rooms as he walked past. The drumming seemed to be coming from the last room at the end of the corridor. He paused in the doorway. There seemed to be snow on the floor and he kicked at hit a little with his boot as the drumming stopped. The snow seemed real as far as he could tell.

“It was in you.”

A voice from right in front of him sent him stumbling back in fear. It came from a man with bright artificially red hair. His eyes were rimmed red from what could be tears. But the colour, stark in comparison to his pallid cheeks, seemed to have bled into the skin around his eyes. It was almost as if his eyes were bleeding.

“It was in you,” the man said again. When he spoke it became very obvious he had strange vein-blue lines creeping up his cheeks from his jaw. “It’s in him, too.”

“Are you - were you drumming before?”

The man with red hair turned around and walked away from the doorframe. The other man walked forward to see where he was going. He noticed a drum kit right at the back of the room. The snow was piled high back there, almost as high as the kick drum in some places.

The man with red hair sat down on the drum stool and stared blankly forward. “It’s in me.”

“What’s in you? Why are you here?”

The man with red hair didn’t respond. He just looked down at the sticks in his hands for a moment. Then, without warning, he started viciously drumming. It was so animalistic that the other man started backing away. He was filled with an extreme fear that made him want to run. A small part of him was glad he was feeling any emotion other than guilt and sadness.

He spun around to make a faster getaway when he was stopped by someone in the doorway.

"He’s gone,” the person said, pulling off their beanie and tossing it to the other man. “But we,” he took a step forward into the dim light. “Are here to stay.”


	2. Floor tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I can't believe the amount of attention this got. Thanks so much for all the kudos!

It was a tipping point. Until now he could keep everything under control. But this, this was too much. He was vaguely aware of his hands crashing into his temples and gripping, crushing, almost as if they were trying to squeeze the bad out. The drumming wasn’t making it any better.

He hated it he _hated it he hated it_ why can’t the world be silent he needed the silence why is the wrong person behind the kit oh God please help him make this end why did this happen to him –

He was thrown against a wall. Well, he assumed it was a wall. He couldn’t actually see anything because his brain was so overwhelming. Through the roaring in his ears he heard someone say ‘put this on’.

He automatically started fumbling with whatever was in his hands but his hands weren’t listening to him and oh _God he’s lost control there is no hope for him please just spare him this hell he can’t control himself anymore just kill him kill him KILL HI-_

His hands were ripped away from his head. He cringed away as someone yanked something over his head. It was warm and comforting. As he hyperventilated, someone positioned his hands on his head, opening up his chest and making it easier to breathe. He was calming down, slowly, and his vision returned to him.

“What’s your name?”

He breathed out heavily, and was surprised he could find his voice. “I’m – ” his voice cracked a little bit. “I’m Patrick.”

He looked up at the person who was talking to him. He was wearing a white button up shirt that, for some reason, only had one full-length sleeve. The left arm was cut off to look like a t-shirt. Below that the man had a white bandage wrapped around his elbow. Patrick noticed his neck was darker than his face. He fixated on that for a moment. Was it dirt? Was his face just extremely pale?

“I’m Tyler,” the man said and Patrick snapped back to attention. Tyler gestured behind his shoulder. “You met Josh.”

“Why are you here?” Patrick asked, letting his hands fall into his lap. His breathing was steady and he felt calm, but he still didn’t trust his legs to carry him. He realised Tyler had pulled the beanie over his head before, and for some reason, the scrap of wool had calmed him down exponentially.

“We needed somewhere safe to stay.” Tyler said. He sat down on the floor opposite Patrick. “Why are you here?”

Patrick looked down at his hands twisting together in his lap. “I was… I was here with my friends a while ago.” He looked back up at Tyler. “I don’t know why I keep coming back.”

Tyler was fiddling with a piece of thread from the bandage around his arm. Patrick took the silence to scold himself for the panic attack before. In his eyes, he shouldn’t be having these. Although, he guessed, it could be a suitable punishment for all he had done. Yeah, he liked that. And good God, did he hate himself.

“Patrick, I feel like we’re the same,” Tyler spoke. Patrick noticed he had a calming voice, melodic.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that of the four people to have come into the building, you are the only one who can see us.” Tyler tipped his head to the side and studied Patrick for a moment.

Patrick pulled off the beanie and mussed with his hair. “I… I don’t know how to explain it. I mean, I can see you because you’re _here_. Are you sure those people looked at you? Like did they just happen to avoid you?” Patrick handed the beanie back.

“They were standing next to Josh as he was drumming and I was screaming in their faces and they didn’t see me. They didn’t even bat an eyelid.” Tyler was twisting the beanie in his hands so hard that Patrick thought it might rip. Tyler’s eyes suddenly widened and he stared at Patrick with something edging on horror. “What did you do?”

Patrick’s veins turned to ice. “I… I was taken – ”

His words were cut short by screaming. Tyler and Patrick jumped to their feet. They followed the sound back into the hallway and into Josh’s room. He was still drumming, but his gaze was levelled at something else.

Three people were standing there, one with a camera and one holding some paper. The one with the camera was aiming at Josh. “Action!” the kid yelled and the third person, a girl, ran forward screaming.

“Help me! Oh someone please!” she screamed. Her acting was slightly pathetic but she was a loud screamer. She kept running forward, towards Josh, as the one with the camera kept her in shot.

“Hey!” Patrick yelled. None of them took any notice of him.

The girl kept running. She was about to hit Josh. Patrick squinted his eyes, waiting for the inevitable crash of noise when her body hit the drums. But she kept running. Right through him. The other kids ran forward to follow her as Patrick stood there open mouthed.

“What the…” Patrick whispered. He briefly wondered if he, Tyler, and Josh were dead. Then he noticed Josh had stopped drumming.

“Tyler?” Josh’s voice sounded like he was drugged, but it was his voice all the same. 

Before Tyler could say anything, Josh’s body jolted like he was receiving an electric shock. He turned back to the kit, picked up his sticks, and started drumming again.

Patrick turned to Tyler, who was staring at Josh with a devastating expression. He hit him lightly on the chest with the back of his hand to get his attention. “Hey, this is a good thing, right?”

Tyler squinted at him. “How?”

“Well he stopped drumming like his life depended on it. He noticed you. That means he came back from where ever he is, right? Which means there might be a way to get him back permanently. And I think those kids might have something to do with it.”

Tyler’s eyes widened as he caught on. “We can’t let them leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably mention now I don't write happy things.


	3. Snare drum

The plot was simple enough. Emma would run into the room. She would scream for help. No one would answer. She’d turn around slowly and see the murderer that had been chasing her. Then she would scream again and run from the building. Simple. Easy. Should have been done in less than an hour.

“Why are we still here, Mark,” Lucy groaned. She clutched the script tighter in her hands. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“We’ll be done in a minute,” Mark muttered. He was still looking through the viewfinder of the camera, recording Emma as she glanced around the snow filled room.

Emma bent down and grabbed a handful of the snow and started compacting it to form a ball. Mark watched her wistfully, keeping her in shot the whole time.

Lucy grabbed the camera and pulled it away from Mark’s face. “Look, man, it’s insanely obvious you like her.” Lucy held her hand up when Mark sputtered at her. “Who records someone when they’re not acting? C’mon, stop lying to yourself.”

Mark looked at Lucy apologetically. “Do you think she knows?”

“Nah.” Lucy grabbed the camera from Mark. “But I think she will if you keep asking her to go over a scene she did perfectly the first time.”

“Okay. Okay.” He looked over at Emma. “We’re done! Let’s grab our stuff and get going.”

“Excellent,” Emma said, tossing the half formed snowball onto the ground.

As they started towards the door, a slamming sound made them stop. Lucy looked with wide eyes at Mark. “Was that the door? Please don’t tell me that was the door. I’m gonna scream if that was the door. Are we trapped in here? Am I trapped in here with you and a chick you like and I’ll be forced to watch you two create a new civilisation inside this building and I’ll die alone because I agreed to do this damn – ”

“LUCY!” Mark grabbed her shoulders. “We’re not trapped. I think it was just a window or something slamming in the wind.”

Lucy’s face turned bright red. “Oh… Oh that makes sense.” She looked over at Emma who staring wide eyed.

“What did you say?” Emma’s mouth was open in shock. She turned to Mark. “Did she say you like me?”

Mark glared at Lucy before turning to Lucy. “Look, Emma. You’re very pretty and I’m happy to talk about it more outside where Lucy isn’t so scared – ”

Lucy interrupted indignantly. “I’m not scared! I’m just… Yeah you’re right. I’m scared. Let’s go.”

As the trio walked to the entrance of the building, they heard a noise.

“Is that music?” Emma asked.

They all strained their ears for a moment.

“Shit!” Emma yelled. Her sudden outburst made the others jump and her voice echoed down the empty halls. “I left my bag back there. It has my phone in it.”

Lucy whimpered. “We were almost free.”

“You have to come with me. I’m not going back alone. This place is creepy as hell.”

Sighing, Mark trudged back with the girls. He really wanted to leave. After what Lucy said in her outburst, he felt extremely awkward around Emma. There would be no way she liked him back. He was... Well, he was Mark.

They made it back to the room just as the music stopped. Emma located her bag against the back wall and rifled through it to get her phone.

“What was your ringtone?” Lucy stood in the doorway. “I feel like I’ve heard it before.”

“Ironically, it’s a snippet of _Kids in the Dark_ by All Time Low.” Emma grinned. “That’s us.” She glanced at Mark. “Kids in the dark. I’ll play it for you, it’s a good song.”

“Well let’s be kids in the light. Please can we go now?” Lucy grabbed Mark’s arm and dragged him from the room.

With Emma lightly singing along to the beginning of the song, the trio made it back to the front door. Mark put his hand on the doorknob. “Are we ready for this momentous moment?”

“Open the goddamn door, Mark, or so help me,” Lucy said venomously through clenched teeth.

Mark turned back to laugh at her but he stopped. His face drained of all colour as he stared down the hallway. “Emma… Turn the music off.”

“What?” Emma glanced down at her phone but before she could do anything, something grabbed her from behind and pulled her into the darkness. Her scream was drowned out by the clattering of her phone being thrown away.

Lucy started screaming and violently pulling at the door. “It won’t open! It won’t open!”

He was staring down the hallway where Emma disappeared. “Emma,” he whispered, terror rooting him to the spot.

“WAKE UP MAN!” Lucy screamed in his face. She knew she was being hysterical but she didn’t care. She grabbed his shoulders. “We need to get out – ”

Before she could finish her sentence, Mark was pulled away from her. He screamed as he disappeared into the dark and Lucy stood there, shock and terror pulsing through her. The damn song was still playing wherever the damn phone landed and Lucy thought she might lose her mind.

Her breathing was ragged. If she turned around, she might get pulled away. If she didn’t turn around to try the door, she might get pulled away. Only one thing made sense to her: she had to stop the song from playing. It was drawing the attention of whatever took her friends.

Slowly, she walked forward a few steps. She’d never been this terrified in her entire life, and she’d broken her mother’s favourite vase once. Keeping one hand on the wall beside her, she crept along the dark corridor, following the sound. She stood in the doorway of the room where she assumed (and prayed) the phone was. The song seemed to be ending, but Lucy knew she still needed to grab the phone for the light it emits. The phone must have landed on its front because the room was pitch black.

She got down on her hands and knees and felt the ground as she moved forward. She felt sobs try to force themselves out but she tried to keep it down. It would be undignified if she were to die now. She was reminded of a quote from a movie she saw a while ago. _And they should be made to crawl on their bellies into the kingdom of darkness._

“Got it!” She crowed as she felt her fingers curl around the small device.

She fumbled with the buttons and was almost blinded when the screen came on. She pressed pause and the room was filled with wonderful silence. As her breathing slowed, it dawned on her that she was sitting in the dark in a building where her friends had been taken and possibly killed. She stood up as she looked for the flashlight function. She pressed the button and looked up.

Standing right in front of her was a man with yellow eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Lacy Greeves for naming my children.


	4. Hanging toms

They were playing a show in Phoenix and the venue was booked out. People were jumping over each other to get closer to the stage. Pete taunted them a little by sticking his hand into the heaving mess of fans, and they only screamed louder.

Patrick glanced over at Joe. He was grinning down at his guitar, thick curly hair bobbing over him as he nodded his head to the beat.

“Please stand for your national anthem!” Pete yelled into his mic and the crowd screamed in excitement.

Patrick kept one hand on the neck of his guitar and put the other on the mic. He leaned close. “Where is your boy tonight…” he began. The crowd went ecstatic as he continued.

The lights on the stage seemed to get hotter. Patrick wanted to stop the song but he couldn’t get control.

“I hope he is a gentleman,” the crowd chanted with him, a few stray screams rising over the general cacophony.

Patrick squinted through the harsh lights and realised he recognised someone in the front row. She was staring at him, unmoving as the crowd heaved around her. Then she screamed and it was the only thing Patrick could hear. The sound pierced his ears and he clutched his hands to his head.

“What do you want?” Patrick yelled to her but she was gone.

 

_one dead_

 

Flash forward to the back of a tour bus. They were all – except for Andy – drunk and laughing with each other. Pete kept doing a terrible impression of Joe who was only responding in _Star Wars_ quotes.

There was a knock at the bus door so Patrick stood up. He wobbled around a bit on his feet but he put a hand on Pete’s head to steady himself. For some reason that made him laugh.

“Pat. Patty Pat Pat,” Pete slurred. “Where are you GOING!” he yelled the last word and Joe cringed.

“A door at the knock.” Patrick thought to himself for a second. “I mean a knock at the door.”

Andy furrowed his brow. “There was no knock, Patrick.”

Joe threw his hands up in the air. “Losing your mind, you are!”

Someone knocked at the door again and Patrick pointed at Joe. “There it was again! I’m not hearing things.”

“There was no sound.” Andy stood up and went to the door. He opened it and revealed no one was standing there. “See?”

Patrick frowned. “I swear…” The knocking sound rang through the bus again and Patrick strode forward. “Don’t knock and run!” he yelled as he opened the door.

“PLEASE DON’T!” A boy was standing in front of the door, holding up at camera.

“Who are you?” Patrick asked, suddenly feeling very sober.

“Don’t kill me, please!” the boy yelled again.

He threw the camera at Patrick and everything went black.

 

_two dead_

They were playing a show again, but the room was almost entirely empty. There were six people in the room with them. Four of them were standing back too far for Patrick to make out their faces. A girl and a boy were standing right at the barrier. They were holding hands and watching the set intently.

For some reason he thought nothing of it. He just put his heart into the songs. Although it was a silent crowd, he was enjoying himself. After about fifteen minutes, Andy had a drum solo and the rest of then picked up some water bottles and took a quick break.

As Patrick was taking a sip, he saw someone burst into the room. They were running to the barrier but the two people already standing there turned around to face them.

“Don’t you dare!” they yelled, and the person stopped running.

The girl at the barrier turned around and pointed savagely at Patrick. ‘See his face! This is him! Remember that!”

Patrick turned to shoot a confused glance at his band members but they were nowhere to be seen. He looked back at the couple below him.

“You stay away from here!” the boy yelled. He turned to Patrick and shot him a threatening stare. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

Patrick realised he recognised the boy but before he could say anything, the lights in the venue shut off. A little pinprick of light remained shining on Patrick’s face. It got brighter and brighter until he was almost blinded.

“Please don’t…” someone whimpered and Patrick was brought back to the present.

A girl was standing in front of him, shaking, holding a phone that was emitting a harsh white light. Patrick’s eyes widened and he took a step back. He wasn’t on stage anymore, but in a dark room with someone who could see him.

"You… You can see me?”

The girl dropped the phone but was too scared to pick it up again. Patrick grabbed it and looked at her.

She was staring right at him. She nodded tearfully. “I can see you,” she whispered, her breath hitching as tears pooled in her eyes. “Am I dead?”

“You’re not dead,” Patrick said reassuringly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The girl narrowed her eyes at him. “You took my friends and you expect me to believe that?”

The blood drained from Patrick’s face. “What did I do?”

The girl wasn’t crying anymore. She shifted a little bit on her feet. Her hands twitched a little and it was almost like –

She lunged forward and punched Patrick square in the nose. He fell back instantly, cracking the back of his head on the cement floor. His mind was gone before he realised it.

 

_He was tied to a chair. He had a black hood over his face and no amount of shaking could get it off. He was exhausted. Who wouldn’t be when your internal organs were taken and set out in front of you? He didn’t know how he was still alive. He should be dead. But he was very much alive. He could smell pork but it made him feel sick. He knew what that smell was and he felt utterly lost._

_“There’s plenty of food here for all four of them, plus a little extra for the other two,” a female voice said._

_Patrick strained his ears to hear any more information. They were talking like he wasn’t even in the room, and a small part of him prayed that he was dreaming or something. Anything other than this hell._

_“Who are they? Why do we need to get this food to them?” A different voice, this time._

_“They’re an upcoming band. They’re gonna be pretty big.” The voice laughed. “I’ll give them some food for thought. Little do they know it’s poisoned.”_

_Both voices laughed. Under the hood, Patrick was struck with fear. He didn’t know who they were talking about but he was terrified for them. This was all his fault._

Patrick came back to consciousness with a gasp. He had a cracking headache from both the trauma and the returned memories.

“You okay?” Tyler glanced down at Patrick. He stood up and offered him a hand.

“She punched me,” Patrick said as he stood up. He felt light headed but he didn’t think he was going to pass out again.

“I know. You went straight down, man.” Tyler cracked a smile. “You were out for a while.”

“Where’s the girl?”

“She ran off. She can’t get out. I made sure of it.” Tyler studied Patrick. “You okay?”

Patrick couldn’t look him in the eye. How could he when he knew he was the reason Josh was like this? How could he tell Tyler that he’d been fed poisoned human meat? There were no words. Everything was his fault. He pretended to fiddle with his fingernail. “I killed them, huh.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“What are you going to do?” Patrick stared at Tyler’s feet.

“To you? Nothing. To the girl? I’ve gotta get her closer to Josh again,” Tyler made a move for the door. “Coming?”

“Yeah. Right behind you.” Patrick dug his fingernails into his wrist and clenched his teeth. Tyler didn’t deserve this. Josh didn’t deserve this.

With every step after Tyler, Patrick chanted to himself, _I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself._


	5. Hi-hat

“One of them must die.”

The words echoed in Josh’s head and he tried to shake them out. His muscles were burning from the constant drumming, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. What made it more frustrating for him was that he knew what had to happen for everything to go back to normal.

That was the torture of his situation. He was conscious, but his body was under the control of something else. He thought he could see it standing in the corner, observing, not letting his hands drop the sticks.

He’d had a breakthrough a while ago where he managed to get up from the kit and walk to the door. Someone blocked his way and he’d spoken words that he didn’t quite understand. They weren’t his words. They belonged to the Thing in the corner. There was a yellow mark around the person he spoke to. It emanated from every fibre of him and Josh knew he must understand what was happening to him.

A girl ran into the snow filled room and went to the window behind Josh. He tracked her with his eyes, disappointment filling him when she didn’t pass through him.

“I punched him, oh God I punched him,” she stammered to herself. “If he wasn’t gonna hurt me before he’s definitely gonna hurt me now.”

She walked back into the middle of the room and gazed around. She looked exhausted and terrified. “What am I going to do?” She whimpered again, and Josh realised she wasn’t moving her mouth when she spoke.

“What, can I read minds now?” Josh muttered sarcastically to himself and the girl’s eyes widened with fear.

She turned around and looked behind her. She looked all around, bringing her hands up to her mouth in terror. “Hello?”

“There’s no one in here. Try the door at the back of this room. It might be open.” Josh didn’t know why he was talking to her. No one could hear him. He tried talking to Tyler before but that was fruitless.

“Who said that?” The girl kept glancing all around her wildly. “I’m sorry I punched you. Please don’t hurt me!”

“You can hear me?” Josh stared incredulously. How could this girl hear him? He couldn’t believe it.

“Yes I can,” the girl whispered. She pressed her hands to her mouth again and inhaled sharply. “I’m begging you, wherever you are, please don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, I swear. I… Well, I can’t move.”

“Where are you?” The girl fiddled with the ends of her hair, still very obviously terrified.

“I’m right in front of you,” Josh responded, and the girl jumped back a little. “I’m Josh. Nice to… kind of meet you.”

The girl cracked a smile.  “I’m Lucy.” The smile dropped from her face. _I’m talking to an empty room_.

“Hey, Lucy, I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think I can hear your thoughts.”

Lucy clapped her hands together. “Well naturally! I mean, you’re a ghost that I can’t see and I keep talking to you like nothing it wrong when I punched a guy that killed my friends and I’m not even bothered so hey!” She threw her hands up in the air. “Telepathy? Why the hell not!”

“I’m sorry about your friends,” Josh said sincerely. He’d had to watch what the yellow man did to them. He couldn’t look away, and the yellow man made sure _nothing_ was left behind.

Lucy said nothing. She just pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” She sighed. “What the hell am I meant to do now? All the doors are locked and the windows are jammed. I’m trapped.”

Before Josh could say anything, Tyler and the yellow man walked in. Lucy screamed a little and backed up, unknowingly getting closer to Josh.

Tyler held out his hand. “Patrick and I just want to talk to you.”

 _Who are they?_ Lucy thought, realising she could communicate silently with Josh.

“The guy who just spoke is my friend, Tyler.” Josh moved his gaze to yellow man – Patrick.

He looked terrible. His nose was all red – Lucy’s work – and he looked absolutely terrified. Something big happened to him, Josh could see it. Maybe he’d remembered what part he played in all of this.

“We know you can’t see him, but my friend Josh is playing the drums right behind you and we need your help to make him stop,” Tyler explained.

_You’re playing the drums?_

“Please just focus on what they’re saying,” Josh said in exasperation.

Lucy folded her arms. “How am I meant to make him stop playing?”

“So I just told you that there’s someone playing a loud instrument behind you and you didn’t bat an eyelid?” Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Can you see him?”

 _Shit._ “I can… hear him.”

Tyler nodded his head. “Okay. Well… Okay. Can you hear his drums or is he… speaking to you?”

“He’s speaking to me.”

“Tell him I know how to fix it,” Josh told Lucy.

Lucy repeated the message to Tyler. “I guess it involves me, right?”

“Yeah,” Josh answered. “You need to come through me.”

Lucy squinted. “I need to what?”

“What’s he saying?” Tyler asked. He was reminiscent of an old person with hearing aids.

“You need to step back and – ” Before Josh could continue his sentence, the Thing in the corner moved.

It was coming towards him. It was completely black and it moved with startling purpose. Josh wished he could move but he was trapped on the stool. All he could do was stare as the thing came closer and closer.

His heartbeat sped up and he felt sweat on his hands. The closer it came, the more Josh felt like he was falling. He was dropping away from his body and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The thing stopped right next to him. It bent down and whispered in his ear.

“One of them must die.”

Suddenly Josh could move. He stood up. He looked at Tyler who was staring back at him.

“Josh!” Tyler exclaimed. “You’re back!”

Lucy turned around and jumped a little. “Where the hell did you come from?”

Josh said nothing. He raised one of the sticks in his hand and brought it down violently. The stick snapped in two on the metal of the kick drum, the head of the stick flying off to the side.

“One of them must die,” the Thing whispered again in Josh’s ear.

Josh nodded. He zeroed in on Tyler. “One of them will die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of them must die.


	6. Crash cymbal

Patrick kept coming back to the room because he killed one of his friends in it. It was the only place he felt could treat like a grave.

And he needed this because after killing Joe, he couldn’t remember where he killed the others. He despised himself for it – and now, in spite of all the chaos ensuing around him, he bashed his head with his wrists – because these people meant the world to him and he didn’t even have the decency to remember where they died.

He wished for death, yet when he saw it coming, he ducked.

He was scrambling, running, tripping, desperately trying to get away. Tyler was shouting behind him, trying to stop Josh’s death march. Patrick just kept running, self-preservation being the only thing he could see.

He was breathing heavily when he made it back to the room. He did the only thing he could think of: he hid in the cupboard. He closed the doors as well as he could from the inside and sat in silence.

It was all coming back to him now. He remembered coming into the room and searching for Joe. He remembered opening this cupboard and getting ready to kill. And most of all, he remembered throwing Joe onto the gurney and strangling him.

He brought his hands up to his face and started hyperventilating. How could he forget this? How did he forget what the girls had done to Josh and Tyler? It was his fault – his meat – that caused them to be like this.

“Please just kill me,” he whimpered to himself.

Suddenly, the door swung open and he was grabbed. What happened next was automatic. He pushed his hands violently against the other person and made them lose their grip. He grabbed them by the shirt and heaved them onto the gurney, glaring down at their face.

It was Josh. He was staring back up at him, almost daring him to finish the job. Patrick stumbled back, shock reeling through him.

“I won’t do it again!” Patrick yelled between sobs.

Josh twisted his mouth in a sinister way. “One of them will die.” He sat up on the gurney and pointed at Patrick. “One of them will DIE!”

Patrick ran from the room. He ended up back in the snowy room and he glanced around. There was no sign of Tyler or Lucy so he went back into the hallway. He didn’t have any source of light as he ran down the halls. He was scared to yell but he was even more terrified of finding Josh again.

“Tyler!” he yelled, glancing into every empty doorway he passed. He couldn’t see anything because it was so dark and panic was rising in his chest.

As he passed another doorframe, someone grabbed him and pulled him in. Patrick was too scared to scream. He just went with the momentum and prepared for death.

But it wasn’t death. It was Tyler and Lucy. “Shut up!” Tyler hissed at him. “Do you want him to find us?”

Patrick felt like he could faint. “I’m so…” His legs turned to jelly and he slid down the wall.

Lucy was standing in the corner, gripping the phone tightly in her hand. “It’s only got a quarter battery left,” Lucy whispered. “Oh God, all my friends are dead.” She pressed her hands to her face to stifle sobs. The situation was finally catching up with her and she realised she was a bees dick away from breaking. She joined Patrick on the floor, digging her nails into her wrist.

Tyler paced around as silently as he could. What was he going to do? His friend looked like he was trying to kill him with half a drumstick. Now he was in a dark room with a man who had killed two people and was obviously either very close to or completely broken. The girl, who had been pretty strong throughout the whole ordeal, seemed to be cracking under the stress. Nothing was going well at all.

“Do either of you have a weapon?” Tyler asked the people hunched in over themselves on the floor. He didn’t like the idea of hurting Josh, but he needed something to defend himself with if worse came to worst.

“Apart from my fists, nothing, really,” Lucy answered. She laughed at herself. “I’m gonna PUNCH the ghost.”

Tyler sighed. “He’s not a ghost.”

“Then how come I couldn’t see him until he decided to go all Jack Torrance on us?” Lucy quipped.

“How do I explain anything that’s happening here?” Tyler’ voice was soaked with exasperation. He looked over at Patrick. “Do you have anything we can use?”

Patrick looked up at him. Well, looked _through_ him would be a better way to explain that vacant look. “I killed them,” he whispered.

Lucy narrowed her eyes. “Yes you did. As soon as I get out of here I’m calling the police.” She wondered why the hell she was sitting there calmly next to the murderer of her friends instead of screaming and running. But there was something about Tyler and Patrick that made her realise this was the safest place in the whole building.

“Not them.” Patrick stared right at her. “Others, too. My friends.” Tears rose in his eyes as he looked back at Tyler. “I did this to you.”

Tyler frowned. “You had nothing to do with this. It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is!” Patrick yelled, realising too late that Josh could be near. He lowered his voice. “You were given poisoned meat and it made you the way you are. It was my meat.”

Before Tyler could respond, he was grabbed from behind. Lucy screamed and stood up, wildly fiddling with the phone to get the light shining.

She froze for a second, like she was listening intently to something. “What?” she yelled. Another second of listening. “Okay!” She ran from the room, her footsteps getting quieter the further she ran.

Patrick was frozen. There was Tyler, struggling with Josh who kept wildly swiping the jagged end of the drumstick around. He finally realised he had to do something. He stood up and rushed forward and pushed Josh away.

Josh didn’t lose his footing. Recovering too quickly for Patrick to attack again, he brought the drumstick forward and stabbed Patrick in the hand. He pulled it out again, unfazed by the blood that covered his hands.

Patrick screamed and fell back. Tyler used the opportunity to run. He was ashamed that he left Patrick but he was so scared he needed to keep moving.

Someone slammed a hand on his shoulder and Tyler just about fell over. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Patrick, face pale, blood on his face.

“Let’s keep moving,” Patrick got out between breaths.

Tyler grinned at him. He turned back to face ahead and was stopped by Lucy. Patrick felt his knees shake as more memories returned to him.

She held up the other half of the broken drumstick in one shaking hand and a silver briefcase in the other. “I know what I have to do.”


	7. Ride cymbal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to this when reading
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ab3NscEJ80s

The noise in Patrick’s brain was so loud he felt like he was going to explode at any moment. He remembered everything now.

Andy was dead.

Joe was dead.

Pete was dead.

 _He_ should be dead.

But he wasn’t. He was standing there clutching his stabbed hand with the hand he remembered losing. He stared down at it. How the hell is this possible?

Maybe he’s dead. He _thought_ he died. He remembered falling onto the sand after Pete fell, and there were some weird memories about a white room, but those were still out of reach.

Then it finally hit him.

“I’m dead,” he muttered, staring with wide eyes at Tyler. “None of this matters. You don’t exist!” He laughed a little. “I’m DEAD!”

Tyler took him by the shoulder and shook him. “Patrick, we are not dead. But we will be soon if you don’t pull yourself together.” Tyler turned to Lucy. “What do you need to do?”

Lucy looked worriedly at Patrick. “We need to open this somewhere safe.” She shook the silver brief case.

“GET BACK HERE!” Josh screamed behind them. He wiped his bloody hands on his shirt and took powerful strides toward the trio.

“We need to hide.” Tyler pulled Lucy and Patrick forward. “Why are there no doors in the place?” he groaned, voice soaked in frustration.

“There’s a door there,” Patrick pointed out. He gestured to the old wooden door just lying against the wall.

Tyler squinted at the door then at Patrick. “How… I mean I know we’re stressed, but how did we not notice this before?”

Patrick shrugged and smiled. “It’s because I’m dead. What I say goes.” He helped Tyler to move the door to the doorframe. “You wanted a door, I got us a door.”

Patrick was utterly broken. He had nothing to live for anymore, nothing to care about. All this friends were dead. _All_ of them. He was directly responsible for two, and indirectly responsible for the third. He remembered how Joe’s face looked when the breath left his body. He remembered how the hands on his wrists had slackened when he died. But most of all, he remembered how Pete and Andy had looked at him when they came into the room.

Betrayal. Horror. Fear. Patrick couldn’t live with himself. He couldn’t STAND himself.

When he had fallen on the ground after fighting Pete, he felt utter relief. He didn’t have to hate himself anymore. He didn’t have to fight anyone. He didn’t have to kill. He hoped he was going to be with his friends.

But he wasn’t. He had to endure life even more.

It was like he was experiencing something bigger than a panic attack. The noise was getting louder and louder, and it was something akin to microphone feedback. Except there was no way he could turn this down. It was all he could do to not scream along with it. If he wasn’t dead now, he certainly felt like he should be soon. He knew if he had a gun, he would not hesitate to shoot himself.

They set up the drums against the door to act like a barricade. It seemed pretty weak, but hopefully it would last long enough for Lucy to tell them what they needed to do.

“Okay,” Lucy said, setting the case on the ground. “We need to open this.”

“Where did it come from?” Tyler asked, sitting down next to the case.

Lucy shifted a little bit uncomfortable. “Uhh… Josh told me.”

Tyler rubbed his face with his hands. “Okay. Okay.” He glanced at Patrick, who was sitting in the snow, making patterns with his fingers. “What do we need to do to open it?”

“I don’t know if you’ll believe it,” Lucy began, a sly smile itching up on her face. “But it’s already open.”

This captured Patrick’s attention. “What’s in it?”

“We’re just about to find out, chill, dude,” Lucy said. She sensed something about Patrick, some kind of palpable energy that was radiating off him. She also was aware how stupid she sounded, telling someone to relax in a situation such as this. She blamed it on the stress.

“I’m not going to relax. Do you know what I’ve been though? I’ve killed all my friends because of that damn case.” He rolled up onto his knees and glared at Lucy. “Do you know what it feels like to have you internal organs pulled out and force fed to you and your friends? Do you know what it’s like to realise that that same meat was given to two other people and it made one of them go on a murderous rampage?” He realised he was shouting but he didn’t care. “I am DEAD, Lucy, and these two are headed in the same direction because it’s all MY FAULT! So NO, I WILL NOT relax.”

Lucy had tears in her eyes. Tyler looked shocked. Patrick was breathing hard. At that moment, Josh started banging on the door. The drums shook, cymbals ringing slightly.

“Number one,” Tyler said quickly, grabbing Patrick’s shoulders. “You are not to blame for that. If it’s true, I don’t hold you accountable at all. Please don’t feel guilty. Number two,” he turned to Lucy. “Open that case right now because we’re out of time.”

Josh bashed on the door again and some of the drums fall away. Patrick felt numb.

It _wasn’t_ his fault? All this time he carried around extreme guilt for what he perceived as his wrongdoing, but Tyler just lifted the weight from his shoulders.

As Lucy and Tyler opened the case, Patrick closed his eyes. He felt free. He felt like he was not evil. He felt all those things, but something made him pause.

Why was the noise in his head still so loud?

He opened his eyes and saw Lucy sobbing into her hands. Tyler was pale, hand pressed to his mouth. Lucy kept sobbing as she looked up and stared at Patrick. “I’m so sorry,” she got out between her hitching breaths.

Josh burst into the room, crashing cymbals and drums falling before him. “One of them will DIE!”

The noise in Patrick’s head was so loud now. He just stared as Josh came forward. He couldn’t even hear the footsteps as Josh approached. Josh opened his mouth in what was probably a roar, but Patrick couldn’t hear it. The noise was so unbearably loud that he considered pressing his hands to his ears, for what good it would do.

But in the end, he didn’t have to make the noise stop. Lucy did it for him.

With fresh tears dripping down her face, and a broken heart, Lucy gripped the broken half of the drumstick in her hand. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

She slammed the broken end of the stick into Patrick’s neck, and finally, Patrick heard silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He opened his eyes and saw a packed arena. He looked to his left and saw Pete, grinning as he walked towards Patrick.

“Hey man!” He slapped him on the back and laughed. “Glad you could finally make it!”

Patrick stared, tears welling in his eyes. “You’ve been waiting for me.” It was less of a question and more of a dumfounded statement.

“Of course we have!” Joe said, handing Patrick his guitar. “We can’t do it without you. Because, y’know, none of us sing.”

Patrick took the guitar gratefully and hung the strap around his neck. “I’m so sorry.” He turned around and looked at Andy. “I’m sorry, Andy!”

Andy grinned, using his drumstick to point at Patrick. “You’ve got no reason to apologise to us,” he said, pointing at the crowd with the other stick. “But I think you should say sorry to them for keeping them waiting.”

Patrick spun around and registered the noise the crowd was making. _This_ was the noise he wanted to hear for the rest of his life. _This_ was where he wanted to stay. He had tears in his eyes and he closed them, savouring the moment. He approached his microphone stand, letting his fingers fall onto the familiar surface of the guitar.

He felt pure. He felt healed. He felt redeemed. He was finally back with his friends, and a calm settled over him in such a way that made him glad he was dead. He grinned out at the mass of people and they went wild. The screaming covered him in a warm blanket as his friends started playing the beginning of the song. Patrick’s part was coming up and he grinned even wider, preparing for his moment.

 

 

For the last time in his life, Patrick opened his mouth and sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.
> 
> I feel like it's going to be finished soon, so maybe there are only one or two chapters left in it. Which is sad, because I really enjoyed it. But we'll see how it goes.


	8. Splash cymbal

When Josh finally got through the door, the room was swarming with dark shapes.

Tyler, Lucy, and Patrick were sitting in the middle of the room, the silver briefcase sitting before them.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!” Josh roared, striding toward the group.

The dark shapes hovered over Patrick. They were whispering so loudly that Josh wondered if Patrick could hear it too. He wished that he could stop this, stop this murderous march towards these people, but he couldn’t control it.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said, tears dripping down her face. She leaned forward, holding the drumstick in her left hand.

Josh pieced it together too late for him to do anything. He lunged forward, trying to stop what was about to happen. Lucy plunged the stick into Patrick’s neck, and the dark shapes exploded.

They started shrieking, coursing around the room and converging on Patrick’s convulsing body. Josh screamed along with them, clapping his hands over his ears and falling to his knees. It was like he brought on the rapture.

Josh pried open his eyes and watched as something bright exploded from Patrick’s body. The dark shapes fell back, screeching even louder. Whatever the white thing was, the dark was terrified of it. Slowly, the brilliance of the white ebbed and the dark kept a wary distance. Josh realised that the white light was giving him his control back. He basked in it, feeling his mind return to him.

Josh glanced at Lucy and Tyler. Lucy was doubled over on her self, sobbing, hands shaking in front of her. Tyler was sitting back, staring at Patrick’s dead body. Josh realised that they mustn’t be able to see the shapes. He tried to speak, but the darkness slipped a tendril over his mouth.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” it whispered, and Josh lost control again.

The whiteness dissipated, and Josh raised the drumstick again.

 

 

Tyler was utterly broken. Patrick’s blood was seeping across the floor and starting to soak into his pants. Tyler leaned forward, staring into the dead man’s face. Patrick’s eyes were staring blankly forward, glassy and lifeless. He took a shaking hand and used it to close Patrick’s eyes. He didn’t want any of this to happen. He didn’t want Patrick to die.

The drumstick was still in his neck and Tyler shuddered. He reached forward and grabbed the end of the stick and yanked it out. Some blood flew up and landed in his eye and he gagged.

He finally registered the noise Lucy was making. She was retching, heaving, sobbing, breaking up into little pieces. He raised a shaking hand and pressed it to her shoulder. She jumped back, a sob ripping out of her throat.

“It’s okay,” Tyler said lamely.

Lucy retched again, leaning over to the side. She didn’t have anything in her stomach so only the foul taste of bile rose in her mouth. Through all this panic, she was filled with an overwhelming desire to run. She rose to her feet and ran. Past Tyler who was still sitting on the ground. Past Josh who lifted the drumstick threateningly at her. Past all the drums that were spilled out on the floor.

She ran, and she didn’t care where she went. Pick a room, any room. Choose that one, it looks safe. Run into it, open the cupboard door, and hide. Close the door behind you. _Shatter_.

In such an enclosed space, her sobs were deafening. She clutched her chest, fighting for breath, each heartbeat rocking her body. Her hands were wet with what could either be sweat or blood, she couldn’t tell.

She wanted to scream about Patrick. She wanted to beg forgiveness from any God, take your pick. She took a heaving breath and shrieked, muffling the sound with her hands. She felt like she was going to vomit again.

“Patrick I’m so sorry!” she screamed, taking deep gulps of air. “I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to!” Back to crying now, back to grieving for the innocence she could never get back.

What she saw in the briefcase had stopped her heart. What she saw in the briefcase could probably start wars and bring the devil to Earth. And Lucy knew she could never speak about it again. She could never tell anyone what she saw. All she could do was try to forget everything.

Her sobs slowed now, and with the fresh silence, Lucy wished she had the drumstick to plunge into her own neck.

The cupboard door opened and Lucy screamed, hoping for death.

 

 

Tyler was still sitting on the floor. He couldn’t move, not after what he witnessed. The briefcase, the murder of Patrick, the subsequent horror that arose. And now Lucy was on the run and go.

Tyler reached out a shaky hand and closed the briefcase. He stood on wobbly legs, holding the case in his right hand. He looked at Josh who was taking steps towards him. He stiffened as Josh came closer to Patrick’s body.

“Stop.” Tyler’s voice was hoarse. He didn’t know how much longer he wanted to live, not after all he’d seen. “I don’t know if you can understand this, but if you come any closer, you’ll be disrespecting Patrick.” Tyler felt some tears fall down his face. “And – ” his voice broke. “And after what he’s been through, I can’t allow it.”

Josh’s mouth twisted into an ugly grin. He took another step forward, kicking Patrick’s hand with his foot. Tyler visibly cringed. “What interest is he of yours?” Josh’s voice was deep, resounding, unnatural.

Tyler started trembling. He’d heard that voice before, inside his head. “There has been enough of this today. Enough terror.”

Josh laughed. “We’re just getting started.”

Tyler held up the case. “You want this? Is this what you’re here for?”

Josh twitched. “What’s in it?”

“I’ll trade you the case for Josh.”

 

 

“Don’t scream, don’t scream, you’re safe.”

Lucy squinted up at the person and frowned in confusion. Patrick smiled back at her. “But I killed you,” Lucy whispered. She’d screamed herself hoarse.

“I know. But that’s okay. It was part of the plan.” He held out his hand and helped Lucy to her feet.

Lucy took in what he was wearing. He was clad in white from head to toe, and he seemed to be glowing. She wiped her face with the back of her hand. “What’s going on?” she said hoarsely.

“I came back with my friends, and we’re going to end this.” Patrick looked over his shoulder and three other people entered the room.

They were all wearing white and were glowing like Patrick. One of them had a reddish beard and what looked like a tattoo on his neck. One of them had dark hair and a very determined look on his face.

The last one had curly hair and was smiling at Lucy. “I can blame you for killing him,” he said slyly. “He can get on your nerves, hey.”

“Shut up, Joe,” Patrick said with a laugh. Patrick introduced the rest of his friends to Lucy, who didn’t say anything.

She was numb. She couldn’t process all of this at once, and a small part of her hoped that she would wake up and text Mark and Emma about what a crazy dream this was. But this was very much real. She killed a man who came back to her. Nothing was making sense for her.

“I’m so sorry you had to be involved,” the man identified as Pete began. “And I’m even more sorry that your friends had to die for this.” Patrick looked at the ground. Pete put a hand on his shoulder. “But this is how it had to be. We couldn’t get it right the first time, so now we’re gonna end it tonight. Everything is going the way we planned.”

 

 

Josh grinned again, and Tyler wished he could rip his mouth off. “Tut tut, Tyler. You shouldn’t have shown your plans that easily.”

“Why are you doing this?” Tyler hoped that if he could keep Josh talking, he could think up a plan before it was too late.

“Why does anyone do anything?” Josh kicked at Patrick’s body again. “It’s fun.”

Tyler shuddered. His eyes flicked over Josh’s shoulder for a moment, noticing that the hallway was growing lighter. It was almost as if someone was using a torch.

“What are you looking at?” Josh turned around and jumped back a step. What he saw terrified him to the core.

Four men who should be dead were standing in the doorway. They looked at him with hatred in their eyes.

It was then Josh knew someone else was going to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okey dokey, there's maybe 2 or 3 chapters left in this, including an epilogue. 
> 
> I just want to thank you all for the positive comments. It means a lot to me, and I'm so overwhelmed with the amount of attention this has received. It's so much more attention then I expected. I kinda don't want to update as often because I don't want it to end, but that wouldn't be fair on you and it wouldn't be fair on the characters.


	9. China cymbal

It was like fireworks.

Lucy cringed into the corner, shielding her face. Tyler had toppled over and was crawling under the lights to get to her.

Just moments before, when Joe, Andy, Pete and Patrick had walked into the room, Josh had turned into some kind of dark matter and flung himself at the other men. It was unbelievable. The men in white had retaliated, and now there was an explosion of light in the centre of the room. A sound like a scratching record was ringing around the room, getting louder and louder as more dark shapes joined the fight.

Tyler finally made it to Lucy, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to look at him. “What the hell is going on?” Tyler yelled over the noise.

“Patrick came back!” Lucy replied, leaning closer to Tyler’s ear. “He said this was all part of a plan!”

Tyler glanced at the shapes in the middle of the room. How could this swirling mass of energy and light be part of any sane plan? “Can they hurt us here?”

Lucy smiled. “I don’t think so.” Something she didn’t say was that if the shapes could hurt them, she wouldn’t protest.

They both looked at the briefcase, knowing something had to be done.

 

 

Inside the fighting mass, Josh stood and watched the other men. He grinned, knowing he was going to win this fight. More and more of the darkness joined and stood behind him. He could feel its energy; feel the anger and absolute _fury_ that resonated from the darkness.

Patrick, however, was feeling confident. He and his friends were together, finally, and they were going to end this thing once and for all.

From the very first moment when he had been captured, a small part of him knew it would end this way. Not in a light- fight with someone who was hell bent on killing him, but with his death. Because yes, he was dead, and his friends were dead, but he was finally getting the chance to rid the world of this evil.

“This has got to stop,” Patrick called out.

The darkness heaved forward, pulsing, straining to hurt the others. “It will stop when you are dead.”

“We’re already dead, numb nuts!” Pete called out, shaking his head. “Don’t you see? We’ve fought before and we’re still going to fight you. Death won’t stop us. We don’t know when to quit!”

Josh took a step forward, and it was almost as if the darkness was pulling him along. “You’re pathetic, every one of you.” He jabbed a finger at Patrick. “You think you’re superior because of the music you make? You think music is good and pure?” He snarled, fingers splayed out like claws. “Music makes people to terrible things. It kills people. It makes people kill other people.”

“You’re wrong,” Andy said. “Music doesn’t make people kill other people.”

“Nor did we ever say our music was superior,” Joe snapped.

“Music is something that can save you from the brink,” Patrick began, taking a step forward. “Music can turn evil into good again.” The darkness shrank back slightly and Josh blinked rapidly. “Music can flush the darkness from someone’s mind. It’s happened before, and it’ll happen again.”

Josh took another stop back, but Patrick kept walking forward. “Peace will lose,” Josh said weakly, just now realising how very alone he was here.

“Peace will win.” Patrick’s voice rang into Josh’s ears. “Fear will lose.”

Patrick finally realised how weak the darkness was. After all, it had to be weak to do what it had done. Because in the end, the easiest thing you can do it to be evil. It’s easy to yell at someone, it’s easy to break something.

But once you know how weak it is, it’s easy to chase it out.

“You’re so weak, all you could do was jump from one body to the next. You ditched me – and I might add that you didn’t even get to me on your own, you had a lot of help from someone – and jumped into someone else. It’s pathetic.”

Josh’s face twisted into what could possibly be fear. “I didn’t… I wasn’t strong enough to – ”

“Exactly.” Patrick pointed his finger in Josh’s face. “You weren’t strong enough. You get all your strength from fear. But that’s running out, isn’t it?” Patrick grinned as Josh blanched. The darkness behind him was almost all gone. “What’s getting rid of that fear? Music, that’s what. We’re the therapists pumping through the speakers delivering just what they need.” Patrick was right up in Josh’s face, and Josh looked terrified. “We take the fear, the pain, and ignite it.”

Josh knew he was bested. The darkness was whispering in his ear, saying to run, to get away from here, there’s still enough time to start again. But the one part of Josh that was still under his control knew that if it didn’t end here, it would never end. And he wanted it to end, more than anything. He said a silent apology and goodbye to Tyler, and made a decision before the darkness knew what he was doing.

He waited for Patrick to turn away from him, and then he leaped forward and attacked. Josh was just wildly fighting without any strategy, fuelled by his own fear, as he didn’t have anyone else’s. It was almost too easy for Patrick to knock him to the ground.

Patrick climbed on top of him, pressing his thumbs into Josh’s windpipe. “You will not hurt them anymore!” Patrick yelled into his face.

Josh’s eyes were bulging and his hands tried to pry Patrick’s away. They went to Patrick’s face, scratching, clawing, and desperately trying anything for him to release his grip.

“Stop!” Tyler yelled.

Patrick looked over and realised the lights had disappeared. He and Josh were in the middle of the room, snow melting around them. “It has to be done. We have to finish it.”

“You’re killing him,” Lucy hoarsely pleaded, eyes burning for tears that wouldn’t come.

“His death must happen for the rest of us to be free,” Andy consoled.

Patrick looked back down at Josh’s face. His eyes were rolling back in his head, and his hands twitched at his sides.

As he lost consciousness, silence returned to the room.

As his heart stopped, Tyler pressed his hands to his face and sobbed.

Patrick rolled off the body and dusted off his pants. He looked over at Lucy who was crawling towards Josh’s body.

She held his face in shaking hands, shocked at how cold he was already. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you,” she whispered, throat burning. “You didn’t deserve this.” She hung her head over his, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

The snow in the room was melting, just going to show what they had finally beaten.

Tyler stared at the drum kit, splayed out haphazardly on the floor. He missed the sound it used to make. For Tyler, the silence was deafening.


	10. Sizzle cymbal

In the end, Josh didn’t come back.

Tyler was hoping that he would. If Patrick came back, why couldn’t Josh?

He sat on the floor with his best friend’s body for hours, waiting for the gasp of air that signified his life.

 

It never came.

 

“What happens now?” Lucy tore her gaze from the heart-wrenching scene playing out behind her. She was sitting on the least wet part of the floor with Patrick, Joe, Andy, and Pete.

“You and Tyler leave this place,” Patrick said, shifting a little bit on the floor.

Lucy knew what he was saying, but she couldn’t comprehend it. She’d been in this place for God knows how long (She’d lost track of time, it could have been hours, it could have been days. Time lost meaning in this place.), and now she had to pick up and continue. She’d lost her two friends in this place. She’d _killed_ someone here, and watched that same person kill another. Lucy was still alive, but she was not the same person. Not anymore.

“Again, I’m so sorry this had to happen to you and your friends,” Pete said. “I don’t know if you can understand it because we still fully don’t, but this needed to happen. It was set in stone, so to speak.”

“What was it that was in Josh? What made him do those things?” Lucy started twisting her fingers in her lap.

“The way I see it – and this could be completely wrong – is that there is a darkness in this world,” Andy began, and Joe nodded. “It feasts on fear in the population, and when it gets strong enough, it takes a host and feeds on more fear.”

“It gets bigger and bigger, and occupies more and more people,” Joe pitched in. “That happened to us.”

“We fought it, well, we fought each other, and we lost.” Patrick sighed. “So I came back. No memories of what happened. Only thing I thought was that I had killed all my friends.” He glanced ruefully at Joe. “And you were there,” he smiled at Lucy “You had to bring my death so I could remember what I needed to do.”

Lucy shook her head slowly. It sounded impossible. It was so hard for her to wrap her head around. “So… So why was it here? Just to feed off fear? What did it want?”

Joe nudged the briefcase with his foot. They’d forgotten it existed until now. “It wanted this. “

Lucy cringed away from it. Her heart rate sped up. “Do you know what’s in it?”

Patrick shook his head. “And to be honest, I don’t really want to know. All I know is it’s horrific.”

Lucy nodded. She didn’t say that she and Tyler had seen what was inside. She was still trying to forget the whole thing. She wished she were blind. “What do we do with the briefcase now?”

“Well, we could leave it here in this building,” Pete suggested. “But I don’t think that would be a good idea. Anyone could come in and see it. Or you could take it. You could look after it for a while.”

“Why me?”

“Look, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” Patrick began with a wry smile. “There is no real reason for you to take it. You’re not special in any way.” He leaned closer to Lucy, making sure she was taking this all in. “We want you to take it, simply because you exist. You exist, Lucy, you are _alive_ , and for that, we are so grateful.”

Lucy felt tears welling in her eyes. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

They all turned around when they heard movement behind them. Tyler stood up, hands hanging limply at his sides. Lucy rose to her feet, cautiously coming near him him.

“Is it dead?” Tyler said flatly.

“The darkness?” Patrick asked as he stood up. “Yes. It is. We finished it this time, properly.”

“Can I leave this place now?”

“Yes,” Patrick responded.

Without saying a word more, Tyler turned and walked from the room. Lucy felt more tears in her eyes as she watched him leave. “Tyler!” she called out at the last second.

He walked back into the room. “What is it.”

“I… Are you just going to leave Josh here?”

Tyler looked back at Josh’s body. “There… There is nothing.” He looked Lucy in the eye. “There is nothing anymore.”

This time when he turned and walked away, Lucy let him leave.

She picked up the briefcase and stood before the four men. “What do we do with his body?”

“We’ll take him with us. He deserves it,” Andy answered.

Lucy nodded. She gripped the handle of the briefcase a little tighter in her hand. “Patrick, how do I stop the darkness from returning?”

Patrick took a deep breath. “Find something which makes your soul sing. Be it music, art, writing, anything.” He grinned. “Keep making trouble ‘til you find what you love. And when you find it, don’t let it go.”

He took a step back, and Lucy realised this was time to say goodbye. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

“If we’re lucky,” Joe said, and the other three men nodded their agreement.

“Thanks for being my partner in crime,” Patrick said, smiling warmly at Lucy.

She shrugged. “What can I say? When all my friends die and I kill someone and witness a murder, I really step up to the plate, don’t I?” Her tone lost the joking edge as she remembered just how many scars she has now.

“Hey,” Pete called out. “We’re proud of you.”

And then they were gone. Lucy blinked a couple of times, trying to understand how they just disappeared like that. She realised Josh’s body had gone, too, as were the drums that were lying around.

She realised her feet were wet and cold from the melting snow, but she didn’t mind. She saw the sun start shining through the window, and she closed her eyes and breathed deep.

As she walked down the dim hallway to the front door, she couldn’t help but feel like she’d lost a part of herself. This in fact was the truth, as she’d killed someone of her own free will, and had experienced enough terror to last her a lifetime. But it was something about saying goodbye to the men in white that made her feel like she’d said goodbye to the best friends she’d ever have. A feeling of emptiness, sadness, and a slight tinge of regret for things she never got to say.

She put her hand on the doorknob, remembering the people she’d left behind. She pushed down on the handle and opened the door. The sun blinded her for a moment and she closed her eyes.

Feeling the fresh air hit her face, she took a deep breath for Mark, because he couldn’t do that himself.

Then one for Emma.

Another for Josh.

Lucy inhaled again, and opened her eyes as she exhaled. She took a stop forward, briefcase wobbling a bit in her hand.

She was on the road to ruin, but she was starting at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter.


	11. Swish cymbal

Lucy never saw Tyler again.

She had no idea where he went after leaving the building. There was no trace of him, and she didn’t even know his last name. So reluctantly, she had to let him go.

 

The following year for her was one of the toughest in her life. She constantly awoke in the middle of the night, sweating, veins filled with fear. It took her a while to learn to not fear the night again, and it hurt to remember what happened in the building.

 

The police had no leads on the disappearance of Mark and Emma. Lucy could hardly tell them the truth. They’d think she was crazy. Andy maybe she was, just a little bit. Because who could be sane after what she’d experienced? Eventually, after months of searching and coming up empty handed, they left the case open.

Mark and Emma’s families buried empty coffins, because a part of them knew their children would never come back.

 

Lucy buried herself in studies. She was learning Music Therapy at the local university. After five years, she was fully qualified and she decided to pack up and leave.

She moved to Chicago, setting up a music shop slash café. The first few years were terrifying and full of uncertainty, but she managed. When her business took off and she hired more people, she started working with the homeless youth to get them back on their feet. Music was her main medicine for them, and they responded fantastically.

She eventually added in a stage to her shop where local bands could come and perform. She loved Open Mic Wednesdays. When someone got on the drums, she felt the kick drum beating in her chest and had to wipe away a few tears.

She kept the briefcase with her all the time. She bought a bigger case, one with both a combination lock and a key, and kept it under her bed. If she ever went on trips, she brought it with her. She kept the key on a chain around her neck, serving as a reminder of what she’d experienced.

 

She never forgot about what happened in that building. She made a point of flying back and visiting Emma and Mark. She came to the building each time, just to check to make sure there was no lingering darkness.

The last time she visited, when she was fifty, the building was being demolished. She watched the crane swinging the ball into the building and sobbed.

 

When she was sixty-five, she fell down some stairs. She was getting old, and the winter weather wasn’t treating her old joints nicely. When she was in the hospital, they discovered she had cancer on her spine. Her family was shocked, but a very small part of Lucy was glad.

She’d lived a good life. She’d done what she loved and she had no regrets. She had _existed_. And for that, she was grateful.

 

She deteriorated in the hospital for a month. On the night she slipped into a coma, she stepped up from her body and just walked away.

She left the hospital, left her weeping family behind. She walked all the way back to where the building was.

 

She stood at the side of the road and inhaled deeply. She could still feel the tubes in her hands; still feel the soft caress of the hospital sheets.

 

“You’re finally here,” a voice behind her said, and she spun around.

Tyler stood there, looking exactly the same as he had forty-seven years ago.

“What’re you doing here?” Lucy smiled at him.

“Same as you. Getting ready to go in.”

“Go in where?” Lucy asked as she turned around.

The building was suddenly back where it used to be. There were multi-coloured lights shining on it, making it look fantastic. There was a crowd of people lined up along the street, chattering together excitedly.

“What is this?” Lucy gasped in wonder.

“Sold out reunion show,” Tyler responded.

“Who’s playing?”

“I don’t know,” Tyler said, taking a step forward. “Let’s find out.”

Lucy hung back. She was scared to leave the safety of the footpath to go into the unknown of the building. “Should I go?”

Tyler turned around to face her. “If you’re ready to go, then come. They’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”

Lucy bit her lip. “Let’s get closer and check it out.”

She and Tyler walked towards the building. They passed the line on their way through, and someone reached out and grabbed Lucy’s shoulder.

“How come I’ve gotta wait for hours in line and you can just go forward?”

Lucy turned around to face the person. Her heart stopped. “Mark!” She threw her arms around him and he laughed.

“I’ve missed you!” he mumbled into her shoulder.

Tears were welling in Lucy’s eyes. She blinked them away and saw Emma standing behind Mark. “Emma!”

Emma grinned and joined the group hug. “We’ve been waiting so long.”

Lucy was full on sobbing now. “I’m so sorry,” she blubbered pathetically. “I missed you both so much.”

Tyler tapped her on the shoulder. “You coming?”

Lucy grabbed her friend’s hands. “Let’s go.”

As soon as they entered the building, Lucy forgot about that she was lying in a hospital bed. It became a daydream, and this building became her reality. They kept walking past the line as it continued inside, all of them amazed at the sheer amount of people waiting to see the show.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucy saw red hair. She walked up to the person and tapped them on the shoulder.

The man turned around and Lucy identified him. After all these years, she would never forget his face. “Josh,” she whispered.

He grinned at her. “You finally came!”

Lucy smiled back, fighting tears once again. “Tyler’s here. Come and say hello.”

When Tyler saw Josh, he raced forward and flung his arms around him. They stood like that for a few moments, and the others could hear muffled words. When they broke the embrace, Josh approached Lucy.

“He just told me what happened.” He put his hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “You did so well.”

The group continued forward. Tyler nodded at the ticket man and they were allowed through. They smiled ruefully at the people waiting in line as they passed them, getting closer and closer to the doors.

Lucy was overwhelmed with emotion. She was back here with her friends and she loved every minute of it. She couldn’t wait to see who was playing.

When they pushed through the doors, Lucy gasped.

Andy, Joe, Patrick, and Pete were on stage, fiddling with their instruments. Andy was tapping out a jazzy sounding beat, and Joe was twisting dials on his guitar. Patrick was lowering the microphone stand and Pete was just hanging out, watching his friends prepare. It was he who noticed the group first.

“Well hey!” he called, drawing the attention of his band mates. “Look who finally decided to show up!”

Lucy grinned, approaching the stage. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Are these your plus ones in the after life?” Patrick gestured at Mark and Emma before hopping off the stage. He approached them both, remorse twisting his features. “I am sorry. More than anything else in my life, I am sorry.”

“Hey man, after standing in that queue for forty-seven years, I think I can forgive you.” Mark held up a finger. “But, if this show ends up being shit, then I can never forgive you.”

Emma laughed. “He’s joking, of course. But we do forgive you. We know why it had to happen.”

Patrick turned to Lucy. “You okay?”

She nodded, happy tears falling from her eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m just so happy to be with you again.” Her hand rose to the key around her neck. “I looked after it. After all this time, I kept that promise.”

Patrick smiled appreciatively and slung his arm around her shoulders. “Thank you so much.”

The others moved off to talk with the other band members, and Lucy and Patrick sat down on the edge of the stage.

Lucy let her legs swing over the edge. “What happens to the case now?”

 

 

“My favourite drums were SJC,” Josh told Andy, who nodded appreciatively.

“They have a great sound.” Andy stood up, handing the sticks to Josh. He smiled encouragingly at Josh. “When was the last time you played?”

“Too damn long ago,” Josh responded, sitting on the stool and gazing at the equipment before him.

He gripped the sticks in his hands, revelling in the feeling of the wood. He started pressing the kick drum pedal, feeling the beat in his bones. As he started tapping out a beat on the snare drum, he felt his spirit fly.

This was where he wanted to be.

 

 

Tyler sat down next to Pete.

“I listened to some of your stuff, man,” Pete said. “It’s really, really good.”

Tyler smiled hugely. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

 “No problem, bro.”

“Do you ever feel like you could put too much of yourself into your writing?” Tyler tilted his head a little bit. “Sometimes I felt like if I put too much of myself into it, then I wouldn’t have anything left.”

Pete thought for a moment. “I know what you mean, but I think the more you put into the music, the easier it becomes. I know at first it can be like ‘oh God, every part of me is out there and people are judging me’, but once you get past that, it quickly becomes ‘there’s a whole room of people screaming the lyrics back at me and I no longer feel weighted,’” Pete replied.

Tyler nodded and thought for a moment. “I think I live for those moments.”

 

 

“Show me bear claw again,” Joe told Mark.

Mark set his hand up in a terrible impression of a bear.

“Nice one, dude! Now show me old lady.”

Emma sniggered into her hand and Joe winked at her. “This is the way I was taught. By my teacher, Regina Phalange.”

Mark stuck his tongue out of his mouth as he concentrated on how he held his hand. “I still don’t remember you talking about playing guitar, Emma.”

Emma waved her hand. “Oh, I talk about it all the time. Bear claw, old lady, and turkey leg. It’s all very official and serious.”

Joe sniggered but hid it by strumming his guitar casually. “You never watched _Friends_ , did you, Mark?”

“Nah. I didn’t really like it.”

Emma looked shocked. “Okay, first of all, who hurt you for you to not like _Friends_?”

Joe rolled his eyes as they continued bickering. He was glad they were arguing though.

No way was he letting Mark touch his favourite Squier Telecaster.

 

 

“That’s a good question,” Patrick said, drawing Lucy's attention back to him. “I think the case stays where you left it, I suppose. The darkness won’t come back for it, that’s for sure.” He patted her leg. “We’ve spent all this time ensuring that it won’t happen again.”

“And no one will have to go through this again?” Lucy stared wide-eyed at Patrick.

“It will never happen again,” Patrick assured her. “And that’s because of you. Thank you. We owe you a favour.” He thought for a moment. “Actually, make that forty-seven years of favours.”

Lucy grinned, watching as the room started filling up with people. She blinked a few times, listening as the room started getting louder. She glanced back at Patrick. “There is one favour I have to ask, actually.”

“Ask away.”

Lucy looked him in the eyes. “Don’t let this night end.”

Patrick grinned, taking her hand as they stood up together.

 

“I promise you, Lucy. This will never end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being on this ride with me. It was so much fun! I want to thank all of you who commented. I feel like a 'thank you' could never quite express how grateful I was for those kind words. I loved waking up inthe morning and seeing the words of encouragement. Truly an awesome start to the day.  
> It feels like I was writing this for so much longer that I actually was. I still can't believe that a 500 word scribble in my notebook turned into this story.  
> Thank you all so much for being the silent (and sometimes not so silent am I right, Lacy?) drive for me to write every day. You've all definitely given me the confidence to put more of my writing online.  
> If you want any updates from me on my writing, or just want to say hi (which i highly encourage, I love talking to people), or if you have any ideas for for my writing, hit me up at acrazypigeon.tumblr.com
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for the words of kindness. I needed this story, too.


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